Laoch
by JulieM
Summary: Looking back into her family history, Mac finds a story that reminds her of the one she shares with Harm. Alternate reality fic! COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

Just to warn you; this is not a new story, it was posted here a while ago,

but I noticed some bad mistakes with my Gaelic so I just had to make the

necessary corrections! Hey, I'm not a native speaker, so my Gaelic is FAR

from perfect. If you're reading this for the first time, enjoy!

Title: Laoch

Spoilers: None.

Classification: probably R, but have always been bad at rating  
things like this, so feel free to correct me if you don't think that  
this is correct.

Just a little background on the story. This one has been a long time  
in coming, I've been waiting for ideas to come together for a while  
now. Hope you like this story, set my home country! The title of  
this story, 'laoch' (procounced LEE-uhx or LAY-uhx) is the Gaelic  
word for 'hero' or warrior.' Some of the names of the characters  
may seem strange, but don't pay to much attention to them and how  
they should be pronounced, because in Gaelic, nothing is really  
pronounced how it is actually spelled. What I find most interesting  
is that most of them have English equivalent. I've outlined these at  
the end of the story.

Disclaimer: JAG and its main characters belong to Don P. Bellisario  
and the peeps at CBS. I don't make any profit from doing any of  
this, but just enjoy providing a bit of entertainment for others and  
exercising my creativity (Or avoiding doing important assignments for  
uni!) Please don't sue me, I'm a poor student who will have a bad  
enough time paying back the colossal amount on my student loan, starting from the middle of next year…If only I could do this for a living (If anybody has any offers, let me know!) Anyway, let's get just one last thing out of the way; if you particularly enjoyed this, please let me know. It doesn't have to be a hugely long e-mail, but just a sentence or two of encouragement or creative criticism would go a long way. And it would barely take a few minutes out of your day to do so. If you chose to reply to me, thanks very much!

OOOO

Part 1

From his place at his desk, in his office Harm looked out of the  
window and across the bullpen. The office immediately opposite his  
belonged to his partner of eight years. Sarah 'Mac' MacKenzie was  
also seated at her desk, her head bent down, engrossed in a case  
file, as she had been for the past hour, now. This only now struck  
Harm as odd, for he realised that she had just this morning signed  
off on the last of her cases. He had been with her when she had  
apprised the Admiral of her findings.

"Very well, Colonel," the gruff old Marine had told her, "dismissed…  
Now, Commander, please tell me you're finally done with that mishap  
investigation report…"

The man was no AJ Chegwidden, but you had to give him points for  
efficiency.

So, if Mac was done with the last of her cases, what on earth was she  
pouring over, right now? Harm was too curious to let the impulse  
pass, so left his office and crossed the bullpen to hers. He knocked  
and waited for the uniform enter.'

"Hey, Marine," Harm greeted her, "What're ya up to?"

Mac let out her held breath and uncovered the papers she had  
concealed when she had heard the knock on her door.

"I thought you might be the Admiral," she explained to Harm, "I  
didn't want him to catch me reading this on military time."

Harm caught sight of some sort of seal at the top of the papers she  
had been reading.

"Luceo non uro? What does that mean?" he enquired, reading the  
writing upside-down.

"It's latin," Mac explained, "It's the motto of the clan MacKenzie…"

"Oh, cool!" Harm exclaimed, "Is this one of those clan history  
websites? Those things can be pretty interesting."

"Those pages are," Mac nodded, "Apparently, the name MacKenzie came  
from descendants of the Norman family Fitzgerald' who settled in  
Ireland."

"So how exactly did they come up with MacKenzie, then?" Harm asked.

"I was just about to get into that…"

"Sorry!" Harm grinned.

"No problem," Mac smiled, "Anyway, this member of the Fitzgerald  
family, living in Leinster, in Ireland, Cailean' or Colin, well, he  
was driven out and sought refuge in Scotland, at the court of  
Alexander the third. After fighting with valour for the King at the  
battle of Largs in 1263, the King established Colin as the governor  
of Eileandonan castle in Kintail…Eventually, he had a son, Kenneth,  
from whom all later generations took their name. MacKenneth'  
literally translates as son of Kenneth.'"

"I never knew that," Harm told her, "How did MacKenneth'  
become MacKenzie' though? They seem so different."

"'MacKenneth' got softened to "MacKenny' or MacKenzie'."

"I see," Harm nodded, "So, what else have you got there?"

"Something that Uncle Matt left me," she replied, quietly, gently  
running her fingers over the pages, as if looking for some trace of  
her Uncle in them. Harm didn't say anything, for he wasn't sure if  
Mac would want to share any of the details in this document with him,  
didn't know if she was ready yet. It had only been a few months  
since Mac's Uncle had passed away in prison, only a matter of weeks  
from his parole hearing. It seemed so unfair that Mac had been so  
close to getting back her only real family member, only to have him  
snatched away from her very grasp at the last minute.

"Well, I'll leave you to it…" Harm moved to get up, until Mac's  
protest stopped him.

"No…well, I'd like to tell you about it…that is, if you're  
interested…"

"Of course I am," Harm settled back into his seat, "I just wasn't  
sure if you'd want to share…"

Mac just gave him a smile, which told him everything he needed to  
know. Now, she was ready to share this part of herself with him, at  
least this part of her heritage. Maybe sometime soon, she'd want to  
share more…

"This is a family story, that my paternal Grandmother passed down to  
my Father. My mother inherited it with the things that my Father  
left to her when he died…She threw most of the stuff away, but my  
Uncle Matt salvaged this, then left it with a trusted friend when he  
went into Leavenworth…"

"Go on," Harm urged, gently.

After a short pause, Mac continued, "My Father's family traced their  
roots directly back, all the way to the sixteenth century, to  
descendants of Cailean MacKenzie, living in Kintail, near to  
Eileandonan castle."

"That's amazing!" Harm exclaimed, softly.

"This is a simple version of the family tree," Mac unfolded a large  
piece of paper, "The full version is a lot more complicated and has a  
lot more off-shoots and people…"

"That's the simple version?" Harm grinned, eyeing the detailed  
diagram, "I'd hate to have to unfold the full-version…"

Harm traced the lines down from the top, from Cailean to Kenneth, to  
his son (also called Kenneth and hence, therefore  
called MacKenneth') right down to Mac's Father's name, Joseph  
MacKenzie.'

"So you'd go here?" he asked, pointing below her Father's name.

"Yeah," Mac nodded, "That's right."

"So which one is this story about?"

Mac moved much further up the page.

"It's about her," Mac supplied, "Anna Iseabail MacKenzie, who I'd  
think would be my…great, great, great…great, great, great, great…  
great-grandmother…I think… Anyway, Anna was the daughter of a  
chieftain of the clan MacKenzie, but despite her direct lineage to  
the clan founder, her family never prospered. They and many like  
them made a living raising livestock and harvesting the heather that  
grew on the moors."

At Harm's raised eyebrow, she expanded, "Heather was harvested and  
its flowers used to brew a traditional kind of ale. Its recipe still  
exists and has been handed down within families, as well."

"I'll stick to my own brand, thank you," Harm wrinkled his  
nose, "Heather-beer doesn't sound all that inviting."

"It doesn't, does it?" Mac agreed, laughing, "But those were  
dangerous times and warfare between clans was fierce and brutal and  
was pretty much a norm. One day, Anna came home from the moors to  
find much of the village smouldering and half of the inhabitants  
dead. Her mother had been raped and strangled, her father had been  
bashed over the head and left for dead, but he was just barely alive…"

"That's terrible…the poor kid," Harm commented, "How old was she?"

"I'm not sure," Mac told him, "But probably not into double figures."  
"What happened after that?"

"The clans who had been attacked launched a counter-assault…"

OOOO

Kintail in Wester Ross

At the junction between

Loch Duich and Loch Long.

May 14th, 1607

Anna MacKenzie watched in silence as the members present at the clan  
gathering each took their turn to speak.

"We cannot do nothing, when so much violence has been perpetrated  
against us…"

"It would just be asking them to come back and stamp all over us  
again…"

"Those MacDonald pigs will rue the day that they chose to come and  
violate our village!"

"How many casualties and fatalities?" the acting chieftain spoke up.

"Over ninety injured and fatalities at just about half that amount,"  
somebody told him.

"And who else do we have to stand by our side, if we chose to take  
action against the MacDonalds?"

"Besides the other branches of the clan, the McIvers and the  
Macauleys also have long-running disputes with the MacDonalds. We  
have their pledge to join us in battle, should we ever call for their  
support. We may also have the support of the MacNeils."

"And how many men is that?"

"Over a thousand, with the MacNeils as well."

"Very well," the chieftain replacing Anna's incapacitated father  
conceded, "Into battle we shall go…Tell me, does anyone here know of  
Dòhmnall? Anna, where are you, child?"

Anna quickly got to her feet and smoothed her apron over in the  
presence of this important clan elder.

"Tell me, child," he spotted her, asking her gently, "How is your  
father?"

"He is still a little confused, but he is getting better," she told  
him, "He is now free of the tremors and is on the mend."

"Will he be ready for war?" someone else spoke up.

"Yes, he thinks so…"

OOOO

After that, the clan was plunged into a flurry of activity, as all  
was prepared for going into battle. Very few men were spared from  
recruitment, not the old, not the young, not those with injuries.  
Even Anna's Father still marched with the troops, despite his head  
wounds and injury. He would not have remained behind, even with worse  
injuries, Anna knew that. But now she and her six-year-old brother  
were on their own. Anna would have to take care of herself and her  
little brother, now that their Mother was no longer around and their  
Father was off to war.

OOOO

She had to be a Mother and Father to her brother and look after  
herself?" Harm exclaimed.

Mac did not have an opportunity to reply, for there was a knock on  
the door and Harm and Mac both scrambled to cover the evidence.

"Enter."

Both breathed a sigh of relief when Bud stuck his head around the  
door.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry to bother you and the Commander when you two are so  
busy, but the Admiral had to step out for a while. Could I please  
get you to sign off on this case for me?"

"Of course, Bud, take a seat."

As Mac read through the files and signed off, Harm let Bud in on the  
secret.

"Actually, Bud, we weren't working…Can you keep a secret?"

Bud looked intrigued; "Yes, of course, Sir."

Harm just gave him a mock appraising look and let him sweat it out  
for a bit.

"I swear!" Bud exclaimed, looking to Mac for support.

"It's okay, Bud," she calmed him, "He's just kidding."

Mac proceeded to give him the rundown of just what she had already  
told Harm.

Bud looked at the family tree and asked, "So, Ma'am, this Anna  
MacKenzie…she would be your…eight-times great grandmother?"

"Yes, something like that," Mac nodded, "Anyway, as I was telling  
Harm, virtually every man in the clan got ready to go into battle  
against the MacDonalds, even the boys who were only just into double  
figures and Anna was left to care for her younger brother."

OOOO

Da…can we come with you?" Anna asked her Father, anxiously.

"Huh?" Dòhmnall muttered, packing up his horse, "What was that,  
petal?"

"I said, Can we come with you?' Just for a little of the way…"

Dòhmnall looked at his daughter, his resolve slipping as her deep  
brown eyes pleaded with him. Her eyes were just like her Mother's,  
he had a hard time denying her anything when she looked at him like  
that…

"Alright, flower," he conceded, "You go and get Uilleam ready and  
follow at the back of the file…But just as far as the bridge. It will  
be dark soon."

Anna quickly ran and tacked up her pony, lifted her little brother  
astride it first, before mounting herself. Spurring the little  
Shetland pony into action, she and her brother took their place at  
the back of the convoy.

"Anna, where are you going?" Little Uilleam protested as Anna steered  
the pony out of formation.

"We won't be able to see Da if we stay here," Anna told the boy, "  
I'm taking us along a shorter route, so we can get ahead of them.  
Hold on tight now, we'll have to trot."

Without a second of hesitation, Anna spurred the pony into a quick  
trot, reflexively tightening her arms around her little brother and  
tightening the muscles in her legs, essentially gripping around the  
bare torso of the small beast.

Soon, they came to the edge of a cliff, which looked out over a  
valley. Sure enough, the beginning of the convoy appeared and in  
time, their Father came into sight.

"Da!" Uilleam called loudly, "Up here."

Dòhmnall looked puzzled for a second as he took in the sight of his  
children.

"I thought I told you, only as far as the bridge…"

"We never set foot over that bridge," Anna shouted back with a cheeky  
grin. She was right, technically, they had turned before the  
bridge. Their Father had never stipulated that they go straight back  
home.

"I promise, we'll go straight home as soon as the rest of the  
file pass," Anna reassured her Father, at the man's exasperated  
look. She knew that the last thing he needed to worry about was if  
she and Uilleam were safe.

"You take care of your brother, now, you hear?" Dòhmnall railed off  
some last minute instructions, "Help Elspeth as much as you can  
around the house, Anna look after the beasts and the chooks… I love  
you both, take good care of each other."

"Yes, Da!" they both chorused, waving, "We love you, too…"

They watched as their Father disappeared into the distance. Anna was  
about to urge the pony away, when she caught sight of a young boy at  
the back of the convoy. He was riding his own horse, alongside his  
Father. Alasdair MacKenzie had been a childhood friend of Anna's,  
although she had refused to associate with him when, at the age of  
eight, he had referred to Anna as just a wee lassie.' Despite the  
fact that this was actually true, she had stopped talking to him  
after that incident.

"What a pity he's leaving for battle," Anna thought to herself, "He's  
nearly as young as I am…"

As Alasdair caught her eye, she saw him quickly straighten his back,  
hold his head high and square his chin, proudly. He was a wee man'  
now, joining the warriors in battle…But would he ever return home  
from the conflict?

OOOO

Anna was twelve when things began to unravel. She was turning out to  
be a very pretty little thing, but unfortunately this also attracted  
her unwanted attention. Murdo MacLeish, an officer for a local tax  
official, had begun to make unsolicited advances towards the young  
girl, who frankly could not abide the lecherous man.

"You know, if you came to live with me and share my bed, I could  
consider letting you off with the monthly rent on this land…" he  
drawled, following her along as she moved the group of highland cows  
out of the top field.

"I would rather wallow in the shite with the pigs, Murdo," she  
responded, stonily.

Over the last few months, the man had been unable to budge her even a  
fraction of an inch on the subject, despite his relentless needling.

Several people around laughed uproariously at Anna's cutting remark  
and at the sour look it elicited on Murdo's face.

"Feck off, Murdo!" Iain, one of Anna's elderly neighbours told the  
man, "You know she isnae' interested. You'll have her Daddy to  
wrangle with, before you ever get your claws into her."

"Just you wait and see," Murdo shouted, as a parting shot, "One day  
you'll have nothing and nobody to protect you but me, then you'll  
have no choice but to concede to my demands."

When he was gone, Anna gave a big sigh and carried on with her duties.

"Go on, lass," Iain eventually took pity on her, tousling an  
affectionate hand through her dark, wavy hair, "I'll get the beasts  
settled in, here. You go home and help Elspeth with the tea…"

"Thank you, Iain," Anna told him, gratefully, lifting a basket full  
of vegetables that she had picked, earlier, "I'll see you tomorrow…"

She set off for home, slowly, weary from the long day of manual  
labour she had had and the long evening she knew still lay ahead of  
her. On the outskirts of the village, she was approached by a group  
of chattering children and it took a second for her to realise what  
they were all simultaneously trying to tell her.

"Elspeth told us to come and find you…"

"You have to go home, quickly…"

"Uilleam is sick…"

"Hurry!"

Anna dropped everything she was carrying, lifted her skirt and took  
off as fast as she could. In the front yard, she sent the chickens  
scattering left and right as she ran to the front door. Uilleam was  
lying on a pallet of fresh straw in the living room, Elspeth at his  
side, bathing him with a wet cloth, trying to keep his fever down.

"Uilleam…what's happened, what is wrong with him?" Anna demanded, as  
she dropped to her knees on the floor, beside her brother. His skin  
was flushed and covered with a red rash and it looked as if he was  
experiencing delirium.

"He began to feel ill this morning, after you left for the moors,"  
Elspeth told her, "I was going to send for you earlier, but Uilleam  
didn't think that we should bother you…He's a good wee boy…"  
Elspeth stroked her hand through the damp hair of the boy she had  
come to love like a son. Ever since she had lost her own son during  
childbirth, then her man on the battlefield, she had turned her  
attention to Anna and Uilleam. Their Father, Dòhmnall was actually  
her cousin, so she felt like she had a duty to them.

Anna gently stroked her little brother's face, but he didn't even  
know she was there, he was so ill with fever. Despite their valiant  
struggle to get fluid into him and to keep his temperature down, Anna  
and Elspeth lost Uilleam in the pre-dawn hours of the next morning.  
They buried him beside his Mother and despite feeling as if she was  
now totally on her own, Anna knew that now he was at peace, for he  
had never really gotten over their incredible loss. He had just been  
too young to be without his mother.

OOOO

"She sounds as if she was a very strong child," Harm commented, "Very  
few kids her age would be expected to take care of themselves and run  
the family business, these days…"

"I heard that the Celts were a very hardy people, Sir," Bud  
contributed, "You have to remember that they lived in very basic  
shelter and survived very harsh weather. In fact, I read somewhere  
once that they used to bathe their children, even during the most  
brutal of winters and slept out on the moors, sometimes with just a  
wet piece of wet tartan to wrap around themselves…"

Mac and Harm just gave him a funny look.

"Why would the their tartan be wet, Bud?" Mac asked.

"Uh, well, apparently wet tartan keeps out the cold and keeps in the  
body heat better than dry tartan does, Ma'am," he told them.

Mac smiled, only Bud would know something like that!

Just then, there was a knock at the door and everyone scrambled to  
cover up all of the sheets they had been pouring over.  
Mac called, enter' and Sturgis appeared.

"Oh, hey," he greeted them, "I thought I saw Harm come in here a  
little while ago. I just wanted to check that we're still on for  
that football game, tonight…"

"Yeah," Harm told him, "Eight o'clock at my place sound okay? The  
kick-off is at eight-thirty."

"Sounds great…" Sturgis nodded, then caught sight of Bud, "Uh…Are you  
doing anything tonight, Lieutenant? Would you like to join the  
Commander and I?"

Bud was surprised to say the least. Commander Turner had been cool  
with him for a while now, although he seemed to be over his initial  
anger.

"That would be great, Sir," Bud stammered, "Eight, at the Commander's  
place?"

"Yep," Sturgis nodded, "Say…what are all of you doing in here? Mac's  
already signed off on all of her cases and the bullpen's been  
absolutely dead for the past week…"

"Well, don't tell anyone, but I was just showing Harm and Bud this  
information that I got about my family history," Mac told him, "My  
Uncle Matt left it to me with his other belongings."

"I was so sorry to hear about your Uncle, Mac," Sturgis  
expressed his condolences.

He had been away on an investigation at the time of Matthew O'Hara's  
passing and had not been able to attend the funeral along with the  
rest of Mac's friends.

"Thank you, Sturgis," Mac thanked him for his thoughts.

"So this is your Mother's side of the family? She and your Uncle  
were siblings, weren't they?"

"Actually, it's information about my Father's side of the family,"  
Mac told him, "Somehow, it all got passed along to my Uncle Matt."

Mac briefly explained the family history then related the story, so  
far, of her ancestor, Anna MacKenzie.

OOOO

Anna gritted her teeth and put all of her energy into the task at  
hand.

"Stupid beast!" she growled at the horned cow, "Move!"

By the time Anna had the animal out of the mud, she was exhausted and  
covered in the thick, black mud herself. Then she heard the last  
voice she wanted to hear at that moment.

"Now, I remember you once saying that you would rather wallow in pig  
shite before you would ever have anything to do with the likes of me…  
I do believe that day has come."

Murdo MacLeish had a smug grin on his face, sitting upon his mangy,  
skin-and-bones horse.

"Murdo, I'd rather kiss your horse," Anna told him, her expression  
filled with loathing, "Whereas it is a horse, you are just an ass."

Murdo's smug mouth disappeared to form a tight line.

"Just you mark my words, Anna MacKenzie," he spat out, "One day, you  
won't have anyone around to protect you and then you'll have to have  
dealings with me."

With that, he left.

Anna sighed. She was now fourteen years old, she was no longer a  
child and she had a good idea about what it was that Murdo wanted  
from her. She shivered with revulsion at the thought…But still,  
somewhere at the back of her mind, she considered the possibility of  
giving into Murdo's demands. If she had done so two years before,  
she would not have had to do so much work on her own. She could have  
spent more time at home, taking care of her brother. Would Uilleam  
perhaps have been alive today if she had used her common sense,  
instead of just listening to her pride?

Elspeth quickly discounted the possibility, when Anna confessed her  
thoughts to her, later that night. They were beside a large fire,  
when the still-small clan had gathered together for a small  
celebration.

"You know that wouldn't be the case," Elspeth remonstrated  
her, "Scarlet fever isn't picky about who it preys upon; young, old,  
weak, strong, rich or poor, it kills you all the same. Besides, even  
if he did survive it, which few people do, he never would have been  
completely well again, not after the fevers that he had. And you  
know that he would have been taken off into battle once he became old  
enough, just like these lads here."

Elspeth pointed to the group of young boys gathered around the fire,  
enjoying an ale or two. They would be leaving for battle at first  
light, tomorrow.

"You know that he would have died on the battlefield, anyway, even  
with your Father there to protect him. He was not so inclined."

"I suppose so…I can't stand Murdo, but sometimes I think that life  
might be a lot simpler if I just do what he wants…"

"Murdo MacLeish is not the man for you, flower," the older woman put  
an arm around her, "Just you keep waiting, one day you'll meet your  
intended and then everything will start to make sense…Just you hold  
on."

Elspeth left her away with her thoughts and Anna concluded that the  
woman was right. Uilleam had never been one for fighting, he just  
didn't take after their Father in that respect. She would try her  
best to hold on…Anna wondered if they would ever see her Father  
again. In one way, she wished for it with all her heart, she really  
did miss him terribly. But she also knew that if she were to see him  
again in the near-future, it was likely to be on a funeral pyre. At  
least not seeing him meant that he was safe, but was just too busy  
fighting to make the journey home. Over by the fire, old Aonghas,  
one of the few remaining young men left, was launching into a story,  
to inspire the young boys who would be leaving the village in the  
morning. Aonghas had lost the use of one side of his body, after  
being thrown from his horse in battle, a fair few years before.

"To send you on your way with bravery and fearlessness, I'm going to  
tell you the story of Cailean Fitzgerald, the brave warrior from whom  
every one of us was born. His blood circulates through us all and we  
are not afraid to spill it on the ground in the name of our noble  
clan. With his fearlessness, we shall crush our enemies and attain a  
glorious victory, in the name of our clan, our allies and in the name  
of our King…"

Anna continued to listen to the story for a while, but she knew it  
well, for it was one that was an important part of her clan's  
heritage. The story held that Cailean Fitzgerald had saved the life  
of their King from certain death while the royal party was hunting in  
the forest. Some hounds had aroused the fury of a stag, which had  
then charged at the King. Cailean had realised the carnage that  
would doubtless occur unless he did something, quickly. At the last  
possible second, Cailean had run into the stag's path, raised his bow  
even as the stag beat down upon him and shot the beast cleanly  
between the eyes with his only remaining arrow. After this, the King  
had presented Cailean with his own armorial bearings and his progeny  
had continued to wreak their fury in battle, just as Cailean himself  
had.

Before Anna went to sleep that night, she imagined her own fearless  
warrior, who would protect her from the wrath of Murdo MacLeish…If  
only…

OOOO

"The poor thing!" Bud exclaimed, "She was totally alone, she was so  
young and she was getting advances from a total creep! Ma'am, please  
tell me that she didn't give in."

"I know it sounds awful, Bud," Mac attempted to explain, "But in  
those days, Anna would have been considered an adult. Boys younger  
than her fought in battle and some girls younger than her had already  
started their families. Because her Father wasn't around, there was  
nobody to give consent, so maybe she would be considered to have been  
in quite unusual circumstances…"

"But it seems so wrong," Bud shook his head, "She clearly couldn't  
stand that man."

"Relax, Bud," Sturgis (of all people!) moved to placate Bud, "I'm  
sure that her clan members would have done something to protect her."

"Although," Harm hated to admit, "MacLeish was in a position of power  
over them. He had the power to hold the whole clan to ransom, until  
her got what he wanted…"

Bud just began to look sick and everyone was silent, for this was a  
terrible possibility for them to contemplate. A knock sounded on the  
door and this time, nobody moved to hide anything. Luckily, it was  
Harriet. She was quickly inducted into the tale.

"So, what happened, Ma'am?" Bud hesitated, "Did Anna escape from the  
grasp of Murdo MacLeish?"

OOOO


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

Despite the back-breaking labour that Anna was forced to undertake, she grew into an extremely attractive and self-reliant young woman. Unfortunately, this and the fact that she was still unattached at the age of sixteen, did nothing to repel the attention of Murdo MacLeish. Anna could see that eventually, with her Father still away fighting, Murdo would find some way around getting her Father's permission for her hand.

One afternoon, when she was on her own at home, Murdo paid her a spur of the moment visit.

"You already have your rent for this month!" she told him, angrily, "What do you want now?"

"I just thought I'd drop my to inform you that your rent is going up, as of next month…" Murdo told her, his slinking form resting against the corner of the room, in the shadows. Anna felt a flush of anger as her told her how much she would have to pay.

"I don't believe it…How many times do I have to tell you 'no' before you will leave me alone? You are never going to get what you want, it doesn't matter how much rent you demand from me…"

"You see, I think you will give in," Murdo interrupted her, "Word has it that you had to sell another one of your beasts, the other week. It won't be long until you have no more to sell…besides yourself, that is. And on that fateful day, I shall be waiting."

Anna picked up a piece of firewood from the fireplace and hurled it as hard as she could at the repulsive man. He only gave an infuriating laugh as he dodged the projectile and strode away. Anna slammed the front door closed, before she broke down into tears.

When she related the story to old Aonghas, the man was furious. So were all of the people of the clan. They saw Murdo's plan for what it was; an attempt to destroy not only one their own, but also the rest of them. They resented the power that he held over them and so devised a plan together, to make sure that he did not get any more.

When Murdo came to collect the rent, the next month, Anna had it ready for him.

"It's all there," she replied, testily, when he began to count it.

"Does this mean that some more of your beasts are gone?" he questioned, a sycophantic grin gracing his features.

"No," Anna replied, not giving him an ounce of satisfaction, "Some friends helped me out."

"Your friends won't always be able to help you out," Murdo attempted to rain on her parade.

"I'll think of something," Anna contended.

Thus, Murdo MacLeish left that day with less satisfaction than he had arrived with.

OOOO

Month after month, Anna managed to find the money from somewhere, even though she had to work her fingers to the bone to do so. Even other clan members could only help out so much, but Anna resolutely worked for every penny that she received from them.

Eventually, Murdo began to lose his patience.

One day, panic erupted in the village. Word had it that MacDonald troops had eluded capture and were now nearby, heading straight for the village, with the allied forces trailing behind them. There was no way their forces would be able to get to them in time, before the MacDonalds attacked.

Anna arrived home from them moors to witness the ensuing chaos. She couldn't find Elspeth or Aonghas in the frantic crowds and Iain was still up on the moors. Petrified families packed all of their belongings into carts and wagons and prepared to flee for their lives. Suddenly, through the crowds, Anna caught sight of the stone-cold face of Murdo MacLeish. The cold, detached way in which he looked at her and all of the chaos going on around them, made Anna shiver and the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Suddenly, it dawned on her exactly what Murdo had meant. The day he had predicted had come, she realised. Those near and dear to her were lost, at least for the moment and whoever was left was hardly going to worry about her when faced with the threat to their own lives. Murdo, Anna realised, had her exactly where he wanted her…

Anna was paralysed with fear as the evil man on horseback began to make his way towards her. Eventually, she regained the ability to move, but still knew the futility of her situation; there was no way that she would be able to out-run his horse. Murdo seemed to realise this too and as Anna glanced back at him, she saw an amused grin grace his face. However, as soon as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by a look of absolute fury. At first, Anna thought that she must be mistaken, so stopped to take a better look. She saw that it was so and that Murdo seemed to be looking not at her, but some point behind her. Reflexively, her head whipped around and her eyes widened at the sight of a chestnut mare running at full gallop, towards her. After this, her eyes moved to analyse the mare's rider. He was a young man, one whom she didn't recognise, but whom was calling her name. Anna couldn't explain why, maybe it was the danger she was still facing from Murdo, but she felt unexplainably drawn to this man. While wondering how on earth he knew her, Anna took in only a fleeting glimpse of the rest of her features, before his arms were reaching down to her and lifting her onto the back of the horse, behind him.

"Hold on tightly," was his only explanation, before he urged the mare into a full-gallop, out of the village.

Anna took a good couple of minutes to shake out of her shocked state.

"Wait," she told her rescuer, insistently, "We have to go back…"

"MacLeish will not be far behind us," the young man replied, "This is your only chance to escape."

"But my clan…" Anna lamented, "They shall all be slaughtered by the MacDonalds…"

"The MacDonald forces are far from here. Our troops have them trapped at Dunvegan."

"But we were told that they were on their way here and that the MacKenzies were far behind them!"

"It was a lie," the mysterious stranger informed her, "Probably spread by Murdo, I'd say, to cause panic. Your Father knew that something was going to happen, so he sent me to come get you and take you to him."

"Wait," Anna interrupted him, "You know my Father? You fight with him?"

The man nodded.

"Why did he not come for me himself?"

"After years in battle, he is not the swift horseman that he once was. I owe my life to your Father, so offered to do this for him…and seeing as we have a past, I felt that I owed it to you, too…"

"Hey!" Anna protested, "Wait just a minute! I can assure you, we most definitely do not have 'a past,' as you like to call it…And you've got gall if you think I'm just going to sit here and …."

Anna didn't get the chance to continue any further, for the young man brought the horse to an abrupt halt and turned in the saddle to face her. The sight of those familiar blue-green eyes brought her tirade to an end and her mouth fell open, slightly. As her eyes swept over the familiar, yet changed features, Anna chided herself, silently. She should have known that smile, those eyes and that wavy hair anywhere! Although his hair had darkened substantially, that grin of his had barely changed!

"Alasdair MacKenzie!" Anna exclaimed, "What on earth brings you this far away from our troops?"

Later on, once Alasdair was satisfied with their progress, they stopped for the night. As he built and set a fire, he explained the purpose for his journey.

"Your Father caught wind of the trouble that MacLeish has been causing you. He was afraid that you might be in some danger, MacLeish is a powerful man, so he sent me to come and get you. I promised that I'd get to you as fast as I could and then bring you back to him. By that time, I suspect that they will already be marching towards Uig, so we'll have another day of riding ahead of us. Our troops plan to push the MacDonalds as far north as they can, before they launch their final attack…"

"Is my Father well?" Anna asked, cutting him off. She did not have time to be sorry, for Alasdair replied in the affirmative and a relief overtook the anxiety that had been with her for a long time.

"He's just a bit war-weary, is all. But still as strong as an ox…Is it true what we have heard about Uilleam? We were told that he was taken by the scarlet fever…"

Anna nodded, telling him, "Yes, four years ago this autumn…"

"I'm sorry," Alasdair told her, genuinely, "He was a wonderful wee laddie…"

Anna perked up at this and decided to ease the tension a bit.

"Like I was 'just a wee lassie'?" she asked, teasingly.

Alasdair just flushed, as he remembered the incident, all of those years before.

"I'm sorry about that, too," he replied.

"Well, I was," Anna conceded, "A wee lassie, I mean."

"But I was being obnoxious about it…" Alasdair admitted, "I don't know why I felt the need to impress the other boys at your expense..."

"We were only children," Anna told him, forgivingly, "All children are eejits, sometimes."

"I was, most of the time," he agreed, smiling.

And how Anna remembered that smile! Only, now it made her heart go pitter-patter and her knees go weak. It was a good thing that she was sitting down!

After a night of restless sleep, they set out again at first light and made good progress over the next morning. After this, they were hampered by driving rain and strong winds. But at least the rain would be washing away all of their tracks. That night, they stopped in a small, friendly village to take shelter, for the weather was too bad to sleep out of doors. Since it was not too far from where the troops had marched through, the day before, celebrations were only just winding down.

"Come," Alasdair helped Anna down from the horse, "We can shelter amongst friends, here."

It turned out that many injured men were being cared for, here and the village people were more than willing to share what little they had. After a warming dinner of venison stew and an even more warming welcome, Anna and Alasdair turned in for the night. Because of all of the extra inhabitants, they had to share the floor in front of the fire in somebody's house, but Anna didn't mind in the slightest, because she had come to trust Alasdair implicitly, despite having being reunited with him for a matter of days. At night, she would watch him in the firelight and marvel how the outgoing, confident little boy whom she had followed around after as a child, had become the strong warrior she now saw before her.

"He's just as tolerant of the wee lassie tagging along after him now," she noted to herself, with a smile. Some things didn't change, not even after all of these years they had spent apart.

"Allie?" she spoke up, into the darkness.

She just caught his smile as he was reminded of her childhood nickname for him, before he replied, "Mm-hm?"

"Do you think that my Father will be glad to see me?"

"I know he will be."

"But I have nothing left of what he entrusted to me…Not even his son."

"He understands that you tried your best, Anna. For years, you held everything together by yourself, under difficult circumstances. He knows that isn't easy to do."

"Hmm," Anna supposed.

"Besides, you're forgetting something even more obvious."

"What's that?"

"He hasn't seen you in seven years. He'll be too amazed at how beautiful you have grown to think about much else…"

Anna flushed bright red in the darkness.

"Thank you," she responded, softly.

She was used to receiving compliments, but from Allie, it seemed to mean so much more…

"You don't need to thank me for telling the truth, Anna," he replied.

Anna fell asleep that night feeling, for the first time in years, warm from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

Anna and Alasdair finally reached the allied encampment at dawn on the fourth day. As they passed through the crowds of warriors in various states of health, Anna unconsciously moved closer to Alasdair in front of her. She didn't like the way that some of these wretches were looking at her.

"Well, looky here!" one of them spoke up, "Looks like Swifty has got himself a wench…"

Allie quickly cautioned him, "I would watch who you call a wench, MacIver…This is the daughter of Dòhmnall the Sturdy."

The man quickly made his apologies and scurried away.

" 'Dòhmnall the Sturdy'?" Anna questioned.

"It is what they call your Father, here," Alasdair explained.

"And what is it that they call you?" Anna teased him with a grin, "Alasdair the Bloodthirsty?"

"No," the young man blushed right up to the dark roots of his hair, "Nothing like that…"

Anna didn't have the chance to question him any more, for she heard her name shouted from the crowds.

"Da?" she scanned the bodies, eagerly.

Alasdair pointed her in the right direction then helped lower her down to the ground.

"Da?" she shouted even louder, until the familiar figure of her Father appeared through the crowd.

"Da!" Anna exclaimed, running and throwing herself into those familiar, comforting arms.

"My! Look at what a young woman you have become!" her Father held her back to get good look at her, "You are every bit as beautiful as your Mother…"

"I'm only sorry that she and Uilleam aren't here to see this day," Anna expressed, tearily.

"I'm sure they are, lass," Dòhmnall comforted her, "And I'm sure that they are very proud of you, just as I am."

OOOO

"My Da' tells me that the two of you will be heading into battle, tomorrow," Anna commented, as she took a seat beside Alasdair around the huge, outdoor fire.

He nodded, looking as if transfixed by the tall flames in front of him.

Anna tucked her legs underneath her, contemplating what she was about to do.

"Please, Allie…" she reached out for his hand, taking it in hers, "I need to ask you to…"

"I promise, I'll watch over your Father in battle…" he quickly assured her.

"Thank you," Anna told him, smiling, "But that wasn't what I was about to ask… Take care of yourself, Allie. I want you to come home in one piece."

"I will," Alasdair promised her, looking at her small hand held within his, "I'm not that easy to kill. I've got my Father's warrior spirit watching over me."

"How long ago?" Anna asked, quietly.

"Nearly a year…He went the way he always wanted to go; In the middle of a glorious battle."

Anna just smiled, that sounded like the Seamus MacKenzie she remembered.

"So, you never told me before, what is it that they call you here?"

Alasdair blushed again and looked away, mumbling something.

"What was that?"

Finally, he looked up again. He seemed very hesitant to reveal this information.

"I said, 'Alasdair the Swift.' That's what they call me…"

"So!" Anna smiled, "That's why my father sent you for me…Unless they meant something else…"

"No!" Allie quickly protested, "I mean…it's because I'm swift on horseback…nothing else…"

Anna just smiled and gave his hand a squeeze, to let him know that she was only joking.

After a minute, Allie spoke up again.

"Your Father is a great man. I would follow him anywhere, into any battle."

"He is a good man," Anna nodded, then joked, "But I still don't like him spouting off about 'dying a glorious death on the battle field'…I hope you're not entertaining similar notions. I mean, I respect what your Father believed, but…"

Alasdair just shook his head, smiling.

"No," he confided, "That's not for me. When I go, I want to be warm in my bed, with my woman by my side…"

Neither of them could think of anything to say after that, so they sat in silence, staring at the flames for a while.

After that, Dòhmnall joined them and Alasdair was quick to bid his 'goodnight.'

Sitting with her Father, Anna thought back to what Allie had said, his words echoing in her head;

"…how beautiful you have grown" …"Your Father is a great man. I would follow him anywhere, into any battle"…"When I go, I want to be warm in my bed, with my woman by my side…"

After just watching his daughter for a while, Dòhmnall commented, "He's a good lad, that Alasdair…well, a good man…he's not a boy, anymore…"

"He is," Anna agreed, quietly.

"And you've turned into quite the young lady."

"Thank you, Da'…"

"I knew that if anybody could get to you in time, it was Alasdair."

"That's why they call him 'Swifty'?"

"Uh-huh, he's saved a lot of our men, in battle. He's fast on horseback and he's able to see things, before they happen. He's a sharp one, he is…he gets there before anyone else has even realised what is happening."

"He said he owes his life to you."

"He's more than repaid that debt to me," Dòhmnall revealed, "He was still just a boy when that happened. He was not wise in the ways of war. I just happened to be nearby…But he learned fast, after that day…Listen, Anna…I want you to move back to the village, tomorrow, when Alasdair and I march with the troops. This is no place for a woman on her own."

Anna just nodded, she was sensitive to her Father's worries and didn't want to distract him when he would have so much else to worry about.

"Okay," she conceded, "Maybe I could help them tend to the injured?"

"Aye," her Father nodded, "I'm sure that they could use the help…You're a good lass."

OOOO

The next morning dawned cold and crisp and Anna tacked up a horse, to get her back to the village.

"Do you think you can find the way well enough yourself?" Alasdair asked her, anxiously, from where he was tacking up his own horse, "I could ride there with you, then ride back and catch up with the troops…"

"I'll find the way there no problem, Swifty," Anna teased him, "Just you take care of yourself."

"I will do…Look after yourself, too…" Alasdair replied, "Anything else?"

Anna just looked at him, smiling softly and requested, "Just return to me, okay?"

Not trusting his voice at that moment, Alasdair nodded and returned her smile.

Afterwards, he would berate himself for not kissing her, not taking her hand in his, anything to get across what he was feeling, to show how he felt about her. After her Father had kissed her goodbye, the two men rode away towards the misty north, while Anna turned back south, the way they had come, the day before.

OOOO

A solid week of work saw Anna set off on horseback again. She volunteered to ride to the next town and collect supplies, which were running low with the number of invalids convalescing in the village. However, Anna didn't appreciate how difficult the journey was going to be and the rain began to pour, soon after she entered a thick forest. Despite the fact that she was dripping wet, Anna's pride refused to let her turn back. Soon, light was beginning to fade and Anna realised that she had been going in circles.

"God almighty!" she cursed, angrily, upset at having got herself into this situation. Things, however, turned deadly when her horse was frightened after a sudden noise sounded amongst the underbrush.

"Easy!" she tried to calm the frightened animal, "Easy, there!"

But the horse continued to back up, frantically then lost it's footing in the soft earth. Anna's piercing scream echoed through the forest as she was thrown from the horse's back and sent tumbling down an embankment. After endless minutes of tumbling, Anna finally felt the shock of ice-cold water as she fell into a slow running stream. After picking herself up and dusting the leaf-litter off her, she began the arduous task of climbing back up the steep hill. She wasn't even half way up when she was surprised by the sound of someone calling her name.

"I'm down here," she cried, as her feet slid in the mud that was now cascading down, around her. Through the driving rain emerged Alasdair's familiar form.

"Anna!" he called in alarm, "Are you alright?"

Anna nodded, even as her legs shook exhaustedly beneath her, "I lost my way then my horse spooked and threw me…Stupid beast!"

Alasdair supported most of her weight as they struggled the rest of the way up the hill.

"Oh, Anna!" he exclaimed, once he got a better look at her, "You're soaking…we need to get you back to the village."

"I've lost my horse, Allie, I don't know where she's gone…"

"She's probably half-way there, by now. Come, we'll take my horse, she's just a little further up this way."

Allie held her around the waist as she struggled to walk, but Anna was by now so exhausted that every piece of debris seemed like a tall wall.

"Allie…" she spoke up, "My legs…I can't…"

Alasdair took this in his stride and lifted her up into his arms, carrying her the rest of the way to where he had tied up his horse.

"Allie," Anna questioned, tiredly, "How did you find me?"

"I always know where you are, Anna," he replied, softly.

After lifting Anna into the saddle, Allie mounted behind her and spurred the horse on, guiding it with one hand, while his other arm held her securely against him. During the long ride back to the village, Anna let her head drop to rest against Allie's chest, where it gently bumped as the horse moved. With the continuing sheets of icy rain and the fierce, whistling wind, Anna was shaking uncontrollably by the time they arrived back at the village. Allie carried her inside the modest hut that she now called home, set her down beside the fireplace and began to set a fire.

"We need to get you warm," he told her, "You'll catch your death if you stay in those clothes, you're soaking…"

Even in her chilled state, Anna noticed that he was far from dry, himself. Still, she began to strip off her soaking clothes, until she remained clad only in her long cloak top. Once Allie had the fire going, he stood and, seeing her state of undress, quickly looked away and began to make his way to the door.

"Wait!" Anna exclaimed, "Where are you going?"

"I just…" Allie stammered, struggling to find the words, "I thought I should…"

"Do they need you back on the battlefield tonight? Why don't you stay?"

"But you…No, I should…You have to…" Allie tried to get all of his thoughts out at once.

"Don't go," Anna pleaded with him, her deep brown eyes stirring something within his very soul, "Don't leave me, not now…"

"Anna," Allie tried to hold himself back, but in vain, "We shouldn't…"

"Please?" Anna pleaded with him, one last time, "Stay with me, tonight."

Allie was now helpless to do anything but go to the open arms that beckoned him. All his resolve left him as he put his own arms around her and felt her mold her own cold, scantily clad body to his. His lips closed over hers and he felt a flush of cold as Anna released first the broach on his, then the one on her own cloak. All conscious thought left their heads as their bare skin came flush together in the dancing lights reflected from the fireplace.

OOOO

"How romantic!" Harriet sighed.

"I can't believe that he managed to find her, Ma'am!" Bud exclaimed in amazement, "How did he even know that she was in trouble?"

"Maybe he just knew," Harm suggested, quietly.

"But how did he manage to find her in the woods?" Sturgis questioned, "It wasn't as simple as just following her tracks, she'd been walking around all day."

"Maybe he just knew that, too," Mac suggested, sharing a knowing look with Harm.

OOOO

When Anna woke, the next day, her first thought was to wonder how she had gotten so tired…and sore. As the events of the previous night flooded back to her, she smiled, stretching lazily. Yep, the slight sore, sticky sensation between her legs attested as to just how she and Allie had passed the previous night…

Anna's eyes shot back open, with a start. Allie!

It was now well after dawn and Allie's place next to her was now long-empty and cold…Although Anna understood that Allie would have had to get back to the fighting before dawn, she could not help but be a little disappointed that he had not woken her to say goodbye. Then Anna smiled as she noticed the sprig of white heather that Allie had left on the mattress of straw, next to her.

OOOO

As Alasdair rode out with the troops, his mind strayed back to the amazing night he and Anna had shared. He'd never even comprehended that the relationship between a man and a woman could be as intense as that. It surpassed just the physical, the only way to adequately describe it was 'spiritual.' Alasdair grinned, oblivious to much else, remembering those liquid-brown eyes. Anna MacKenzie was 'his woman'! He fought the urge to laugh aloud with joy.

"Now what could possibly have our young Swifty so entranced that he's led his horse through the rough?"

Alasdair had not heard Dòhmnall approach. As he looked down at the ground below his horse, he realised that they were indeed in marshy ground.

"Thinking about anyone I would know?" Dòhmnall asked, knowingly.

"Somebody, who you might say is dear to both of us," Allie replied, honestly.

Dòhmnall just nodded his head with a satisfied smile and rode on. As Allie spurred his horse into a trot, his last thought was how, when he returned, he would make an honest woman of Anna MacKenzie.

OOOO

Anna ducked to exit under the low doorway of the house that was being used to administer to the injured combatants. With her basket of linen bandages on her hip, she crossed town and set out towards the small glen that ran alongside the chapel. All who had met Anna had noticed a change in her over the last few weeks. Since the morning when that young warrior was witnessed leaving her home, she had not so much walked amongst the other villagers as floated amongst them. But despite looking as if she had ascended to another spiritual plane, she had still thrown herself into the duties that were designated to every member of the village. Take right now, for instance. She was up to her elbows in bloody, soiled bandages. Her day was split between tending to the injured, changing their dressings and cleaning their weeping, sometimes rotting wounds. Even the vilest of infections didn't affect her, although the high number of fatalities did. The other half of her day was spent boiling all of the linen and scrubbing it clean so that there were clean bandages to do it all again the next day. It was hardly a pleasant task, but Anna tackled it all with a passion that was unsurpassed.

After dropping off the soiled bandages to be boiled and soaped, she picked up a load that had been newly cleaned ones and carried them to the glen to rinse them through. Once she had returned and rinsed four more loads, she set them out to dry in the wind and sunshine and went to return to the infirmary. On her way, she caught sight of a group of combatants heading in from the north. Anna always made a point of scanning the riders, then those lying injured in the wagon, just to make sure, before launching into her duties. This day, however, she knew there was something wrong when she spotted her Father at the front of the wagon, guiding the horses. Quickly, she scanned the men riding alongside him, searching for the figure that had become as familiar as her sturdy Father's.

"Your Father is a great man. I would follow him anywhere, into any battle."

Why wasn't Allie riding alongside her Father? She knew that he wouldn't leave his side unless he could help it. Anna still was not frightened, for she knew within her heart, she felt him, knew that he was still there with her. That could only mean one thing…

"Da?" she called loudly, to her Father.

He jerked his head, indicating towards the bed of the wagon, behind him.

Anna barely waited for it to stop before she climbed into the wagon bed, moving over other injured men to get to hers.

"Allie?" she asked anxiously, turning the unmoving form from his front onto his back.

Through pain-clouded eyes, he took in the sight of her above him and smiled, despite his pain.

"Anna," he breathed, softly.

"He took a hit in his side from the shot of a musket," Dòhmnall filled her in, "Those bastards got their weapons from the Sassenachs and filled them with debris…"

Anna gasped as she assessed Aladair's wounds. Both his cloak and his side had been reduced to shreds. He'd already lost a good deal of blood, although she couldn't tell what was his and what was that of others, painting the bed of the wagon. They would have a job of getting all of the shot out of his side and keeping his wounds from mortifying.

"Anna…" Allie moaned, delirious with pain.

"Hiya!" Anna greeted him, taking his head and cradling it in her lap, "What did you think you were doing, huh? What did I tell you about coming back to me, safe and sound? We've got plans, you know? I see that you weren't swift enough to dodge most of this shot."

She said this only teasingly, with a soft smile on her face and her caressing hands never leaving his face, which was staring up at her with near-reverence.

"He was swift enough to get in front of that musket," Dòhmnall revealed.

At Anna's questioning look, he elaborated, "Before Swifty's hulking form was in front of that musket, it was aimed right at my head."

With her mouth hanging open, Anna looked from her Father to Alasdair in amazement.

"Looks like I'm the one in your debt, now, son," Dòhmnall told the younger man, smiling.

"Don't tell him that!" Anna joked, "We'll never hear the end of it."

Allie choked out a chuckle.

"C'mon, a chuisle," Anna told him, "Lets get you into the infirmary…"

The term of endearment was not missed by her Father, but he didn't comment on it as they carried Alasdair inside.

OOOO

Over the next few days Anna stayed by Allie's side almost constantly. When he was in pain, she'd gently lift him to lean into her arms, cuddling his head to her breast and stroking his face until he calmed and drifted back into sleep. Anna did not leave to get sleep, only to personally launder Allie's soiled bandages to make sure that they were free of all contamination. Despite removing as much of the shot as possible, Allie's wounds ran freely with infection, bringing with it all manner of materials; the metallic bits and bobs that had been packed in with the shot, shreds of his tartan cloak, organic debris from the battlefield where he had fallen. Day after day, Anna tended to his wounds, until the blood from them ran clear. Still, the next time the dressings were removed, there was always more infection, both on the surface and below it. In between that time, Anna bathed him with cool water, just as she had done for her brother, to bring down the fever caused by the infection. Finally, as Anna thought that she might really start to despair, she pulled away Allie's dressings to find only black clots of dried blood. On closer inspection, the skin around the wound sites was no longer the puffy, bright-red shade it had been. Anna tended and dressed the wounds again then left them to start healing.

"How's the lad doing?" Dòhmnall asked, as Anna exited the hut with the soiled linen.

"His wounds are clear, now…I just need to watch him tonight, to make sure that his fever doesn't spike again."

"Why don't you get some sleep, Anna, love?" I could watch him tonight."

"No…Don't think that I don't appreciate it, Da'…I just…I need to be there, to know that I'm doing all that I can and can't do any more."

"But you haven't had a wink of proper sleep in days. Besides, he saved my life out there…and he's saved your life more than once. I feel that I owe it to him and if there is anything that I can't handle, I'll come and wake you."

Anna grudgingly conceded defeat, then realised her Father's words.

"Wait… 'he saved my life more than once?' When?"

"That night he came back to find you, when he knew there was something wrong…"

"He told you about that?"

"Well, about how he got you home…nothing else…but he didn't need to…"

Anna just gave him an appraising look, her cheeks beginning to colour as Dòhmnall looked knowingly back at her.

"What?" he asked her, chuckling, "You afraid that your old Da's been checking up on you and your boyfriend's comings and goings?"

"How…What do you know about that?" Anna tried to keep her voice cool.

"I'm nae daft, lass!" Dòhmnall snorted, "I have just one question; do you love him?"

Anna nodded and Dòhmnall could see no hesitation whatsoever in her expression.

"Then that's enough for me…"

He turned and went back inside, to watch over Alasdair while Anna continued on to go and boil wash the linen.

That evening, once Anna had finally eaten for the first time in days, she got some much-needed sleep. It was pitch-black outside when she woke, but despite the late hour, she got up and made her way back over to the infirmary.

She let out an amused breath when she got inside and straightened up. Allie was sleeping peacefully on his pallet on the floor. Dòhmnall was by his side, propped up against a wall, in a similar state of slumber. Anna crossed to her injured warrior's side and checked his forehead for any sign of fever. It was perfectly cool. With a sigh of relief and a silent prayer of thanks, Anna carefully lay down beside Allie. Before she closed her eyes, she watched him. How she longed to touch him, longed to be closer to him. Anna fought the impulse, for she knew that Allie was sleeping a healing sleep. She didn't want to disturb or accidentally hurt him. So she stayed where she was, closed her eyes and contented herself with basking in the slight warmth radiating from Allie.

The next time Anna woke, there was a glow to the sky that predicted the coming dawn. Her Father was now gone, probably having sloped off to bed at some point during the night. When she looked to Alasdair's face, she met his brilliant blue-green eyes.

"Hey there!" she greeted him, softly, "You're finally awake. How are you feeling?"

"Better," Allie responded, his voice rough and husky because he hadn't used it in so long, "now that you're here…"

"I've been here almost all of the time, over the past six days," Anna revealed, "Where have you been?"

"I don't know," Allie pondered, "The other side, I guess…"

"Yeah, well, they must have realised that you belong to me," she joked.

"There's no place I'd rather be," Allies replied, moving to take Anna's hand, grimacing even at the slight movement.

"Don't," Anna urged, hurting even as he did, but he carried on anyway, taking her hand and raising it to his lips, pressing a kiss there.

OOOO


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

Within days, Allie was able to sit up, then to stand and move around for short periods of time. He found it hard staying still for long, when Anna spent most of her time working so hard in the infirmary.

"What did I tell you, Alasdair Donnchad MacKenzie?" she scolded him, finding him on his feet again for the umpteenth time that day, "You're not doing your side any favours. Those wounds need time to heal…"

Allie grimaced as he was caught, but not in pain. He had always known that he was in trouble when she called him by his full name, even when they were children.

"I just don't want my side to seize up, that's all," he maintained, "I've got to keep mobile…"

"You want to go back to that bloody battlefield, don't you?" Anna accused him.

"When I'm well, yes," he responded, honestly, "We've got a war to win."

Anna shot him a furious look and stalked out of the infirmary.

OOOO

Over the next few weeks, Allie's resolve to return to war only solidified further. He did not do himself any favours with Anna, though, turning her against the idea, albeit unintentionally. He had been sitting by the fire with Dòhmnall, enthusiastically swapping battle stories with him and the other men, when the older man's eyes swivelled upwards and a contrite look came over his face. Allie turned around in time to see Anna's quickly retreating form. After cursing, he excused himself to go and find her. He found her in her house.

"What do you want me to do, turn my back and abandon every oath I have made to the clan, to our clan?"

"No," Anna replied, "I just don't want you to go."

"Anna, you know that I have no choice…Even if I didn't want to, which I do, I'd be compelled to. My sense of honour demands no less of me…"

"And how can I let you go off to a war that may take you from me? You're in a weakened state, you are not yet back up to full strength."

"I'm getting better every day. It will not be long until I'm fit again…"

"And then you're going to leave me again?"

"Argh, woman! You're infuriating, sometimes…"

"Well, if I infuriate you that much, why don't you get out of my house and go back to your war buddies? It's obvious to me where your priorities lie…"

Allie took this chance to back away, so that he could calm down then reassess the situation logically.

By the next day he was ready to put the plan into action. After questioning various residents of the village, upon being unable to find Anna, he learned that she was down by the glen, on linen duty.

"What are you doing down here?" she asked, just keeping her concern hidden below the surface, "You know that the path down here is not stable."

"My side is fine, I needed to see you, it couldn't wait."

"It sounds important, if it couldn't wait for an hour or two."

"It is…Anna, I've been thinking, ever since I left to go back to battle after that night…we've got something much greater than any war that we could fight against another clan…"

Anna just listened to him, expectantly.

"Anna, before I go back into battle, I'd love it if you'd marry me and become my wife…"

Anna's mouth fell open, demonstrating how this was the last thing she had expected. Allie was too busy searching for an answer in her expression on her face to see her hand speeding towards him. Anna slapped his hard across the side of the face. Yep, that had definitely not been what she had been expecting!

"Alasdair Donnchad MacKenzie!" her voice was hushed, but seething with anger, "That is the most selfish thing I have ever heard from you…You are leaving me in a few days to go and fight a war AND YOU EXPECT ME TO MARRY YOU!"

Anna's voice stepped up more than a few octaves while she got the words out and Allie just listened in stunned silence.

"Uh…" he finally stammered, "Well, I thought it was an idea…"

He winced as she shouted back, even louder, now, "YOU THOUGHT IT WAS AN IDEA?"

With a huff of total fury, Anna grabbed the linen she had washed, bundled it into her basket and started back to the village.

"Anna, wait!" Allie came to his senses, "Don't go…Please, don't leave things like this…Why does marrying me sound like such a bad idea?"

"Alasdair…" Anna spun round.

Allie now knew that he was in trouble, she never really called him 'Alasdair' anymore, not unless he was in a lot of trouble. Or when…Allie snapped his head out of it, now was not the time to be thinking of that.

Anna continued speaking despite the tears that were brimming in her eyes.

"I will not do it, I will not become a war widow."

Alasdair could not find anything to say to this, so stood in silence, watching Anna retreat.

Over the next few days, Anna avoided Allie and Allie avoided Anna. If, at any time, they did run into each other, they remained indifferent and cool towards one-another. Anna felt as if Allie valued the war over her. Allie felt like Anna didn't understand how much he felt like he had to do this. He was doing it for his clan, their clan and therefore for Anna herself. Soon enough, the day of Allie and Dòhmnall's return to the battlefield dawned.

"Where's Anna?" Dòhmnall asked Allie, who was saddling his horse.

Allie just shrugged, "I don't know, she's avoiding me…"

Dòhmnall just stared at the man who had seemed so in love, only a couple of weeks before. What on earth had happened? He went off in search of his daughter, before he left, so he could say goodbye. He found her moping in her house.

"What on earth are you doing in here?" he asked, "We're all leaving soon. Aren't you going to say goodbye?"

Anna got up and hugged her Father, but Dòhmnall pulled back and reiterated, "No, not to me…to Allie…"

"No," Anna replied.

"Why not? We're going soon…C'mon Anna, surely it all can't be as bad as that."

"He asked me to marry him…"

"And?" Dòhmnall didn't see anything at all wrong with that, it was wonderful news.

"And," Anna responded, "he's leaving to fight the final battle of the war and he expects me to marry him…I will not become a war widow, Da'."

"I never expected to become a widower, Anna. Sometimes you just lose the one you love…"

"There's a difference between getting killed in war and getting murdered in your own home…"

"That's why we're doing this, Anna. To show that we will not be bullied…To show that the MacDonalds will have to answer for their crimes. So that nobody else has to lose a wife or a mother again like that, like our family did…"

Anna didn't say anything.

"Anna?"

"So now I have to lose not only my Mother, my brother and my home, but also my Father and the one I love?"

"I have no say over that," Dòhmnall told her, "Only God himself could tell you that. You just have to make the most of what you've got, while you've got it."

Anna was silent and unmoving once more.

"Well," her Father conceded, "It's your decision, lass."

He walked out to rejoin the troops.

By the time that they were ready to go, there was still no sign of movement from Anna's house.

"Why don't you go and talk to her?" Dòhmnall suggested to Allie, "She stubborn, but it is only her fear of losing you that is controlling her."

Allie just shook his head, mounting his horse.

"It is getting late, Dòhmnall," he insisted, "I think that we need to get going."

Anna watched them through the thatch of the window. They were going. It took every ounce of her self- discipline not to go out and shout at him not to leave her. But she would not have him staying unless it was what he wanted.

As she watched them disappear into the early morning fog, she supposed that he must not want a life with her. She had been fooling herself to think that he had.

OOOO

"How incredibly sad!" Harriet exclaimed, "Just when things were looking so promising for them. Now he's going back to war."

"What are the chances of Alasdair having been killed in one of those wars?" Sturgis asked.

"Pretty high," Mac supposed, "Those battles were pretty bloody and brutal."

"But he had survived, so far," Bud pointed out, "Even through what we'd today consider to be his boyhood."

"Yeah, but now he's been injured," Harm argued, "And Mac's right…During this final battle, the MacKenzies would have totally thrown themselves into the slaughtering of Macdonald troops. That kind of blood thirst can cause you to be reckless."

"But Anna can't have lost him, as well…" Harriet lamented, "She just can't have…"

"Only one way to find out," Sturgis surmised, "Please read on, Colonel…"

OOOO

Anna was inconsolable for days.

"Won't be long, now, lass," Moira MacNeil commented to her, day after day, "They'll kill themselves some MacDonald scum then be happy with themselves. You mark my words, it won't be long, now…"

But the men did not come home anytime soon and Anna began to feel hollow inside. Everyone in the village, whether MacKenzie, MacIver, Macauley or MacNeil, furiously debated what could be keeping their troops. Every time this subject came up, Anna had to leave the general area, because some of the conversation made her sick to her stomach.

"Anna? Are you okay?" One woman noticed just how much this talk was affecting Anna. Sorcha MacIver worked with Anna at the infirmary and was just a year younger than her.

"Yeah," Anna answered her question, picking herself up from her knees, after releasing the contents of her stomach into the grass below, "My dinner just didn't agree with me, is all…"

Sorcha was never one to play along with a tale she didn't believe, not even for the sake of an easy life.

"You're really worried about him, aren't you?" Sorcha plunged right in.

Anna just looked up, about to refute the claim, but caught sight of the determination in the other woman's eye. All the fight left her and she deflated.

"More than I ever thought possible…Oh, Sorcha, I never said goodbye to him. What if he doesn't make it home?"

"You can't let yourself think like that!" Sorcha scolded her.

"But I was so horrible to him, I don't know why I behaved like I did. He asked me to marry him and I slapped him!"

"You had a right to be annoyed," Sorcha conceded, "But did you really believe that he was only asking you when faced by the possibility of not returning home?"

"I don't know what I believed," Anna confessed, "I was only thinking that he wanted to leave me…yeah, I guess and go off to war and get himself killed…Oh, Sorcha, I don't want to lose him…"

"That's not going to happen. You are going to live one day at a time and take care of anything as it happens."

Anna spent the next few weeks putting Sorcha's wise words into practice. They both worked tirelessly, for the casualty list was now double what it had been previously. As Anna watched yet another body of a young man, being carried out of the infirmary, she could hold it in no longer. Quickly and quietly excusing herself, she went home, lay down on her pallet of straw and cried herself until she was exhausted and fell asleep.

"Hello? Anybody home? Anna?"

Anna woke up to Moira's voice, the next morning. The sun was already high in the sky and it would probably soon be afternoon, rather than morning.

"Hmmm? Moira?" Anna stirred.

"Goodness gracious, lass!" Moira exclaimed, "Are you still in bed? We were expecting you hours ago…"

"I'm sorry, Moira," Anna apologised, even though the woman was nothing but an old busybody, " I just haven't been feeling very well, lately…I guess I must have been catching up on lost sleep."

"Well, you're going to have to get yourself going," the old lady ordered her, "There are waves of casualties coming in from the battlefield. We've been covering for you so far, but we can't do it for much longer."

"Of course, Moira," Anna snapped to, "I'm sorry, I'll just be a minute."

OOOO

Moira was partly right about the casualties, there were a fair few of them, more than there had been.

"Did she come and get you?" Sorcha all but screeched, "I told her she was to let you sleep! Oo, I'm going to give that woman a piece of my mind, I told her we were able to manage okay on our own…"

"No," Anna halted her, "Don't say anything to her, we've got work to be getting on with, right now. Besides, I really need to be getting on with things, it helps me not think about…it all."

Anna was glad that there were more of them, because the numbers of injured coming to them increased, until they needed to erect a shelter outside, because the was no more room inside. Anna was dealing with the most appalling wounds, all day long. Some of the injured told her that the allied forces were gaining significant ground and pushing the MacDonalds back into a corner. Anna didn't know just how seriously to take this, though, because these men were often delirious with pain and were saying a lot of other things that didn't make sense. By nightfall, when the stream of injured did not slow, she surmised that it must be true and the battle must be going strong. She stayed up all night, tending to the injured. Before daybreak, things started slowing down, so she went home to get a few hours of sleep. But the respite didn't last long, for new streams of injured started coming in and Anna found herself working tirelessly again. One injured man she tended told her that the MacDonald forces had tried to slip through allied lines. That had been what had caused so many casualties. The allied forces had refused to sleep, staying up all night to make sure that no McDonalds got past them and escaped south. Now the enemy had retreated back north and the allies were on the move to surround and box them in.

"Did it look as if it might be over soon?" Anna asked the man.

"Could be," he replied, "But those MacDonalds are cheeky devils. They're always pulled something out of their sleeves…Still, at least they've lost more men than me have…"

Anna left the man to get some sleep while she tended to the rest of the injured.

"Do you want to go and get some sleep?" Sorcha asked her, later that evening.

"No thanks, Sorcha," Anna told her, "I'm fine. You should get some rest. You've gone longer without it than I have."

So Anna continued to work late into the night, before she went home. She was awake bright and early again the next morning, but the flow of injured had slowed. In the afternoon, it almost halted altogether. These combatants who had family in the village were able to go home, where their families cared for them, when they were well enough to move. This at least removed some of the strain on the infirmary staff. The previously large staff of carers slowly shrank back to half the size again. Anna still stayed on linen duty, so that the infirmary would get ahead in its duties.

A few days later, when returning from washing at the glen, a young boy ran past Anna, almost knocking into her.

"Easy there, Hamish! What on earth has you in such a rush?"

"They're home!" the boy exclaimed, "The warriors have come home."

"What? All of them?"

"Aye, they're still unloading the horses…"

Anna cursed, not entirely surprised that while her man had been arriving home, she had been scrubbing soapy linen.

Once she got to the village, she saw it full of men, all in varying states of health.

"Please," she prayed fervently, "Let him be well."

She quickly dropped the linen off at Sorcha's.

"Are you not with your man?" the girl just stared at her incredulously, "He's just home and here you are, concerning yourself with linen…"

"I'm only just home, myself," Anna explained, "I didn't know they were home."

"Get yourself home, then," Sorcha ordered her, "And don't let me see your face around the infirmary for at least a couple of days!"

Anna just nodded as she felt her cheeks flush in excitement. Somewhere in this thronging crowd, her warrior was waiting for her!

But the closer to home she got, the more the doubts grew in her mind. Would Allie be glad to see her? After what had happened, would he still want to be with her? Had she destroyed any chance of a life with him? She started to feel awkward, too. What would she say to him? When she thought of how she had gone off at him, she began to wonder if she would have the nerve to speak to him at all.

Anna needn't have worried on this score, though. As she approached home, she suddenly caught sight of him through the crowds, standing with her Father.

"They both look well," she thought as she stood watching them.

Looking at Alasdair, he didn't seem to be hurt in any major way, not from the way he moved. He had a few negligible scratches, but that was all. He also seemed to be in good spirits. He was smiling broadly as he chatted and joked with the other men around him. Anna felt her resolve shrivel and her heart sink…He was happy and he hadn't even noticed that she wasn't there. He probably hadn't even thought about her…He didn't care.

Anna moved, about to retreat to somewhere private, where she could be alone with her thoughts. But she stopped as she saw Allie place an urgent hand on the shoulder of the man who was speaking to him. He began to say something….Anna recognised her name on his lips then Allie began to look and search through the crowds, in the direction of her house. Anna felt her heart soar again and she didn't care about what she would say to him. All she needed was to be with him, to feel his arms around her.

"Allie!" she shouted as she took off running.

Allie heard but did not see her because of the people around him, who also distorted the sound of her voice, so he did not know where she was coming from. He just pushed his way towards her house, not aware that she wasn't coming from that direction.

"Allie," he heard her call his name again.

He got the impression that she might be behind him so, a little confused, went to turn around. Anna's full weight caught him just as he had turned. Catching him off-guard, they both fell, Anna landing on top of Allie as they hit the ground.

Although Allie had had some of the wind knocked out of him, he attempted to say something, but Anna didn't give him the chance, fastening her mouth onto his. As she kissed him, frantically, Allie's arms wound round her, holding her to him. He began to kiss her back with just as much passion, even as he lifted and pushed her up, so that he was sitting up and she was straddling his lap. Anna knew from his kisses and his touch that he was not pushing her away, for he was holding onto her, even as he pushed her. Allie pulled away only to get them both to their feet then they embraced again, Anna's arms around Allie's neck and his arms holding her to him. Everyone around them just smiled in amused tolerance, watching the uniting of two young people who were obviously very much in love. Even Dòhmnall laughed out loud, from where he was untacking and unsaddling his and Allie's horses.

Oblivious to everyone and everything around them, Alasdair and Anna's kisses only grew more frantic, until, with an impressive show of synchronisation, Anna jumped into Allie's arms, locking her arms back round his neck and her legs around his waist while Allie held her securely around the hips. The distance and obstacles between them and Anna's house was quickly negotiated without incident.

OOOO

"Now that is romance!" Harriet declared.

"Do you know anything else, Ma'am?" Bud asked as Mac placed the final sheet of paper down on the desk.

"Anna and Alasdair were married only a couple of weeks later," Mac told them all, "They never ended up going back to their original village, although Dòhmnall MacKenzie did, to reclaim his Chieftaincy of the tribe. Anna and Allie settled in an area in the north of the isle. They had children and raised them, at the same time eking out an existence living off the land. Life passed well for them. Alasdair got his wish; he died at what was then considered to be a ripe old age. He was warm in his bed and Anna was at his side. She passed not too long later…"

"That's beautiful!" Harriet breathed, "They deserved to live out the rest of their days peacefully."

Sturgis nodded, agreeing, "I'll be quite happy if my life turns out like that."

"There's something to be said for tranquillity," Harm agreed.

"Unfortunately," Mac spoke up, "The descendents of the clan MacKenzie didn't have it quite so well…After the Act of Union in 1707 the Hanoverian government began to try to systematically wipe out all forms of Celtic and Gaelic tribal culture, including the language. Children in schools were taught only in English and Gaelic was outlawed, along with tartan, the bagpipes and Scottish highland dancing. Many highlanders had their homes burned and their cattle taken south to the lowlands or to England. The highlanders were left devastated by these attacks and those that defied the new laws were either transported to the colonies, hanged or worse…"

"Hanged, drawn and quartered?" Sturgis asked.

"Probably," Mac nodded, "but that was not the end. The Jacobites went to war against the Hanoverian forces in 1746, at the battle of Culloden, and they got slaughtered. Some years later occurred what came to be known as 'the clearances.' In order to 'improve the land' by grazing sheep on it, clan chiefs began to turn on their kinsmen, in favour of making money. Many highlanders were evicted from their land and forced to migrate to the coast to become fishermen or crofters…My family, the descendents of Anna and Alasdair left Scotland in the early 1800s, set for the States, hoping that it would be 'the land of opportunity' that they desperately needed…And the rest is history…"

"That was so interesting, Ma'am," Harriet enthused, "I really wish I knew my own family history as well and far back as that."

"It was," Harm and the other staff members agreed.

"It's an inbuilt urge to find out where you come from," Bud contributed, "It's like finding out a bit of yourself."

After Mac had sorted out and stacked up all of the papers again, everyone began to get up to go.

"Say," Harm spoke up, "what are you two doing tonight, Mac, Harriet? Why don't you join us to watch the football, tonight?"

Harriet's face brightened.

"Only if nobody minds," she replied.

"We don't want to muscle in on a guy's night," Mac added.

All the men shook their heads, signalling that they wouldn't mind the addition at all.

"Give Bobbi a call," Harm suggested to Sturgis, "See if she's free, as well."

Mac nodded enthusiastically, she and Bobbi Latham got on very well. As everyone left the bullpen, that night, they all felt the warmth in their hearts that one feels when in the presence of family.

The end

AN: The following are traditional Gaelic forms of English names and some are even have equivalents in other European languages, such as German. The others are just traditional names that don't really have an English equivalent. Many of the names are still commonly used today.

Cailean – Colin

Iseabail – Isobel

Dòhmnall – Donald

Uilleam – William

Iain – John

Aonghas – Angus

Seamus – James

Donnchad – Duncan

Sorcha – Claire

Elspeth

Alasdair – Still very popular

Murdo

Hamish

The word 'Sassenach' is a term traditionally used to refer to an English person.

'The Jacobites' was the name for the Scottish forces loyal to King James VII (Jacobus is Latin for James) who resisted English rule.

'Hanovarian forces' were English forces fighting the Jacobites. 'Hanover' was the original name of the English Royal family, but was changed to 'Windsor' around 1914 or so, to make them sound more English and less German (they had German roots), against whom the English were fighting a war. (Interestingly, this is also why we call 'German Shepherd' dogs 'Alsatians,' as they were also used by the English to relay messages between troops fighting trench warfare.)

'A cuisle' is a Gaelic term of endearment, meaning basically 'My darling.' It's literal translation is 'my pulse.' It is thought to come from a longer phrase, 'a chuisle mo chroí' which means 'pulse of my heart.'


End file.
